Blurring the Lines
by randolhllee
Summary: Root co-opts Shaw into a date using her "for the mission" logic against her. Can be seen as a sequel to "Ramen and Heels," but also stands alone.


The next day, when Shaw arrived at the subway station, she was confronted by a sight that she had not expected. Root was comfortably enthroned in Harold's rolling chair, while Finch himself hovered uneasily near the other end of the subway car. From what Shaw could make out as she stepped warily into the car, Root was unleashing the full force of her am-I-or-am-I-not-a-psychopath routine on Harold. From her expression, it was more for pure enjoyment than for any specific purpose.

"Ms. Shaw!" Harold exclaimed immediately upon sighting her. He was obviously relieved at the interruption, but then his expression turned to confusion. "Why have you come?"

Shaw stared at him for a moment, then directed her angry gaze to Root. "I got a text," she explained stonily as Root smirked. "I _thought_ it was from you, Harold." She could hear Finch clearing his throat as he realized what had likely happened.

"I don't have time for this, Root," Shaw spat. She could hear Finch muttering something about _boundaries, Ms. Groves, _but she was more interested in the possibility of strangling Root. Trekking all the way up there on a fool's errand was not the end to a stressful day that she wanted. On top of that, the hacker's proprietary behavior after her invasion of Shaw's apartment the day before (_and that kiss, _Shaw's traitor of a mind reminded her) spelled out implications that Shaw absolutely did _not_ want to consider.

"I really do have something for you to do, Sameen," Root simpered. "A new job."

Shaw's mind raced, and her eyes widened in anticipation. Driving for Romeo's crew was all well and good, but she could do with some more action, even if Root was the source. Her thoughts were violently derailed by Root's next words.

"Here, wear this," she ordered, tossing a dry-cleaner's bag at Shaw.

"What is this?" Shaw demanded as she ripped off the plastic. Inside was a dress (black, of course), and she was chagrined to see that it was her size. She could hear Harold's tired "Ms. Groves…" even as his words were overrun by Root's response.

"Did you bring those heels I bought you? You should make an effort to look nice," Root commented glibly. "It'll make the date more believable."

Shaw's face became even more angry, if that were possible. "What. Date."

"Calm down, Sameen. I promise we'll have fun." Shaw froze.

"We?!" She had expected some teasing for the night before, even though she was _sure _she had not kissed back (_had not had time_ was a thought that she tried to avoid), but this was a little much.

"C'mon, you can change in the car. Our reservation's at eight." Shaw stalked after Root as she swept out of the car.

"I'm not going!" _I'm not feeding _that _delusional fantasy, thanks._

Root turned her head, mightily amused, although she did not stop. "That will make things rather tricky, I'm afraid."

"Figure it out!" Shaw demanded. They had reached the street, and she turned at the _chrrp _of a car remotely unlocking to see a jet-black Ferrari.

"You're not a very good girlfriend, Sameen," Root commented as she slid into the passenger seat.

Shaw leaned in the driver's side window to hiss "We're not dating!" as loudly as she dared. The street was not crowded, but it wasn't deserted either, and attracting any kind of attention to the subway station's locale was unwise.

Root merely smirked. "Whatever you say, Shaw," she drawled in a bored voice. "Now do you want to drive, or shall I?" Shaw glared at her, prompting her to continue, and the hacker sighed dramatically. "If I promise that you can shoot someone, will you get in?"

Not knowing what else she could do, Shaw sprang into the car and slammed the door furiously. Root rolled her eyes, but was still obviously delighted.

"Where are we going?" Shaw growled.

"Take a right. Don't worry, Sameen," Root reassured her in a light voice. "It's just for the week."

Shaw nearly crashed the convertible. "A _week_?"

"Although if it's going to look believable, I probably shouldn't sleep on the couch. I promise I don't bite. Much." Root's grin demonstrated that this was the most fun she'd had in ages. Shaw was considerably less amused.

"I will kill you," she vowed as she swung the car through the intersection.

Root chuckled. "You say the sweetest things."


End file.
